


River have mercy (Remix of "And Quietly Flows the Rhine")

by Syrena_of_the_lake



Category: German Mythology, Waldesgespräch - Schumann (Song)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 13:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrena_of_the_lake/pseuds/Syrena_of_the_lake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A skilled huntress knows how to turn a bargain to her advantage.<br/>(Title is a line from the song "Lorelei" by The Pogues.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	River have mercy (Remix of "And Quietly Flows the Rhine")

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/gifts).
  * Inspired by [And Quietly Flows the Rhine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/603361) by [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/pseuds/Quillori). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Quillori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillori/pseuds/Quillori) in the [remixmadness2015](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/remixmadness2015) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Ancient Persian RPF  
> Arthurian Mythology  
> Child's Ballads  
> Egyptian Mythology  
> Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms  
> Finnish Mythology  
> Greek & Roman Mythology  
> Merchant of Venice  
> also various songs and paintings  
> No safe story

"Call back my brother to life," challenged the hunter – or, more properly, huntress. "And I will stay here with you, watching over him, of my own free will. Or if you desire my death, you may have that instead."

The Lorelei witch gazed at the bold young woman before her and felt a stirring not unlike the first tentative winds after a storm. Life so rarely interested her, except in the taking of it: that final breath, when open eyes grew pale as the moon. But this woman, this youth disposed to surrender her life and future in exchange for her brother's soul – this was something new. And it had been a long time since the witch had last seen anything new.

Ensconced within her barricade of jagged rocks and stinging spray, the Lorelei had spent years beyond number drifting on the monotony of her own song. Only the faces of the dead woke her from that mindless slumber. And the knowledge of their fates, which rested solely with her, was both her power and her burden.

She studied the girl with eyes as green as the night-flames dancing in a far northern sky. It would be so easy to send this weak, brazen thing downriver to rest among sun-bleached bones and broken timbers.

"I accept your bargain," said the witch abruptly.

The girl, startled, said nothing.

The Lorelei plucked a hollow reed from the riverbank. She pierced it with her nails, as sharp as any cat's or eagle's, and set it to her lips. Wild, seductive notes sailed forth upon the wind, but it was only an echo of her usual song. It was not so hard to call forth a soul, after all. It was the body's desperate hold on life that posed the difficulty – not that it was ever much of a challenge. Most sailors these days didn't even resist long enough to crash upon the rocks. They leapt overboard and drowned trying to reach her.

The boy whose soul now winged toward them, caught in the net of her song like a thrashing fish, was no exception. Perhaps one day she would tell that to the girl. The Lorelei's pale lips curved slightly.

In a nearby thicket, a stag shied in alarm and just as suddenly stilled. He took a few halting steps into the open and stood, quivering, in front of the maiden. The girl's hand trembled not at all as she laid it atop the stag's head. Tears glinted in her eyes.

_Foolish child,_ thought the Lorelei. _Tears are wasted on these mortals_. No matter. She would learn, in time.

"What then is our bargain?" asked the girl. Her voice was almost steady.

"Only this: for one hundred years, you shall take my place." The girl cried out like a wounded animal. Implacable, the Lorelei continued. "You call yourself a hunter, and hunter you shall be. For one hundred years I give you my song, and you shall be chained to this place." She glanced at the stag. Its eyes rolled with fear. "You may keep the animal," she granted magnanimously.

The girl fell to the ground and wept. The stag bent to nuzzle her cheek. Lorelei, Siren of the Rhine, turned away and vanished in a crest of wave that bore her out to sea.

The horrors wrought by that eldritch creature, loosed from her bonds for a full century, are doubtless numbered in other tales throughout the world. But on the River Rhine, they say, the waters grew calm and remained so for several generations. Moss grew thick upon the rocks. Gulls returned to nest upon the cliffs. Fisherman returned to their wives with full nets of gleaming fish. Sailors' hearts quickened not with fear but with anticipation as they entered that silent passage, for they knew home was near and the journey's perils nearly over.

Even today it is said that, deep within the wood, a luminous maiden still walks, accompanied by a faithful stag with knowing eyes. And according to legend, neither of these companions ever utters a sound.


End file.
